


Hugs on the Bathroom Floor

by bisexualdisaster221



Series: The Spider System [9]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Autistic Character, Autistic Meltdown, Depersonalization, Derealization, Dissociation, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Michelle Jones Is a Good Bro, Panic Attacks, Peter Parker has DID - Dissociative Identity Disorder, Protective Michelle Jones, Sensory Overload, Stimming, Switching, Triggers, meltdowns, semi-verbal character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:54:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26153779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bisexualdisaster221/pseuds/bisexualdisaster221
Summary: Finley is triggered to the front during an English presentation. Overwhelmed, the toddler runs to the bathroom to hide, and it's up to MJ to find him and calm him down.
Relationships: Michelle Jones & Original Male Character(s), Michelle Jones & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: The Spider System [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1892590
Comments: 22
Kudos: 242





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer and Trigger Warnings
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I do not have DID/OSDD. I do not personally know anyone with either. All of my research comes from reliable sources. See the end for an in-depth explanation as to what happens in this work.
> 
> Trigger Warnings [I censor them here, but I do not censor them in the work]:  
> \- Implied S*xual Ab*se [nothing explicit; Skip is mentioned once]  
> \- Tr*ggers [the Hannah Montana transition themes positively tr*gger Fin, even though in the moment it's not a positive tr*gger for him]  
> \- Swearing [MJ swear a little bit]  
> \- Meltdowns [descriptions of an autistic meltdown]  
> \- P*nic Att*cks [Fin has a bit of one in the bathroom]  
> \- Mentions of S**cide [Peter and his classmate give a presentation on Romeo and Juliet, which includes mentions of s**cide]
> 
> Feel free to suggest more if I missed any!
> 
> I hope you enjoy the story!

Peter hated English class with a burning passion. He could only be good at so many things, and it seemed that English was not one of them. He just _did not see the point_ in analyzing books about slavery and colonialism that were written decades ago.

Unfortunately, Midtown did not agree with his line of thinking, which was why Peter was currently paired up with some random classmate neither he nor anyone in the system knew, stood in front of the class, giving a presentation about _Romeo and Juliet._

“-not informed in time and killed himself in front of the sleeping Juliet, who in turn committed suicide upon seeing his dead body. Many characters could in theory be held responsible for the deaths of both Romeo and Juliet, however…”

A student’s phone went off, ringing to the tune of one of the _Hannah Montana_ transition song compilations.

“Excuse me, Mr. Lewis, please turn that off.”

Giggles erupted throughout the classroom.

Peter snapped back into attention, scrambling to grab his notecards from the podium in front of him as his part grew nearer. He was sporting one hell of a headache, and he was beginning to feel spacey. _God_ he hoped this was just his presentation anxiety acting up. He _really_ didn’t think now was the best time for a switch to happen.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Murphy, please continue.”

“-because he both jumped to conclusions and acted on temporary feelings.”

The classmate set down her cards and looked expectantly over at Peter.

“Um, right-” he muttered, clicking down on the mouse of his laptop to move to the next slide. “Um… Romeo was to blame for his death and Juliet’s de-death because he jump-jumped to conclusions.” Peter swallowed harshly against the rising nausea growing in his stomach and continued. “He autom-autom-automatically assumes that-that Juliet is dead, even withou’ wor’ fro’ th’ one man he knows-knows he can still trust to give him the truth.” Peter’s breath sped up. It was too hot and he was so dizzy and confused. His words didn’t feel like his own anymore, his voice felt foreign, but he knew he had to keep going. “He does not wait for a letter from the Friar and instead believes what his servant has told him, proclaiming that he will kill himself to lie with her… in…”

Peter swayed in place, pressing a hand over his eyes and leaning over the podium. He sucked in a breath. Where was he? What was he supposed to be doing? Why was he standing up? Why did he feel so hot and sick?

He ignored the startled cries of his classmates and felt himself black out, and he knew nothing more.  
.  
.  
.  
Finley didn’t know where he was or why he was there. One minute he’d been playing with Mommy in his room, folding paper airplanes and throwing them around, and the next, he’d been pushed forward, the cheerful tune of a song he did not know ringing in his ears.

His eyes darted around, his head filling with a million questions. Where was he? Why was he so tall? Why were there big scary tall people in a classroom with him? Why was he in front of them? Where did Mommy go? Why-

“Mr. Parker? Are you alright?”

Finley’s head snapped up, eyes brimming with tears. He stared at the woman- the teacher, he guessed based on how old she looked. He gaped, tears flowing down his cheeks, and he fled the classroom.

“Peter!”

“Mr. Parker!”

Too loud! Everything was too loud and it hurt his ears. It gritted against them like sandpaper on the wall when Mommy repainted their bedrooms, and oh god even the thought of that was enough to make him gag. The lights hurt his eyes, burning into them as if he’d looked into the sun, which he didn’t do because Mommy said it would make him blind. He slapped his hands over his ears, whimpering, and ducked into what he hoped was a bathroom.

He crawled under the sinks, uncaring if anyone was watching, and sobbed. He rocked back and forth, the movements soothing the ache in his body, hands pressed against his ears in an attempt to block out any and every sound. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, the lights still blinding him.

He rocked back and forth for what felt like hours, the stabbing pain in his body eventually quieting down to a dull ache. He dared to remove his hands from his ears so he could flap them away from his body, but he slapped them back on just as quickly right after.

“Peter?”

Finley choked out another sob.

“Peter, can you hear me? You’re starting to scare me.”

Finley wailed, slapping his hands against the wet bathroom floor.

“Um, okay, is this- is this a sensory overload? Panic attack?”

Finley focused his attention on the voice. It was low and soothing, and sounded like it belonged to a girl. He let his eyes flicker upward, staring at the girl’s shoulders for only a second before he squeezed them shut again.

“M-Mommy,” he sniffled, another wail forcing itself out of his throat.

“Mommy…? Oh, you’re... “ the girl hesitated. “You’re not Peter, are you?”

Finley shook his head, fingers tangling into his hair.

“Okay, um… Can you tell me what you need right now?”

He sniffled, opened his eyes, flickered them up at the girl’s shoulders again, and launched himself forward into her chest.

“Oof, _wow_ you’re heavier than you look,” she said, “What’s your name, dude?”

“Fffff-Fin-Finley,” he stammered. He gripped the soft fabric of her t-shirt, running his hands along the fabric. Every part of his body felt too weird and rough and big and _wrong._ Was he in Petey’s body? Was that why everything felt so weird?

“Finley,” she tried out the name, “that’s a badass name. I’m MJ. How old are you, Fin? Can I call you that?”

Finley nodded, tucking his face into her chest. “Free.”

“You’re three?”

He nodded again.

“Mm, I probably shouldn’t use language around you then, huh little dude?”

Finley let out a watery giggle. “What hap’ned?” he asked hesitantly, pulling away from her chest once he felt his heart calm down.

“Well Fin, I think you had a bit of a sensory overload there.”

He frowned, staring up at her. The lights were okay now, they didn’t stab through his eyes like they did before, and he felt okay with looking at her. He didn’t make direct eye contact, but he studied her face for a few seconds. Her skin was light chocolate brown, like the color of his favorite stuffed animal, and her hair was dark and wild and bouncy. He could see the kindness behind her steel-hard gaze.

“Where?”

“Where…?”

He looked around the bathroom, then back at her shoulders.

“Oh, you mean here?”

He nodded, curls bouncing. He nodded again, curls bouncing once more as well. He grinned, nodding his head again and again, enjoying the way the curls kept brushing against his forehead. His eyes flickered up to meet the lower half of MJ’s face.

“So, I’m only like, fifty-five percent sure about this, but… you ever hear about DID, little dude?”

Finley’s head shot up, and for the first time, he stared her directly in the eyes. She looked taken aback by his sudden enthusiasm. A wide smile spread across his face, and he giggled out, “We have DID!”

MJ’s dark eyes widened. “I- I was totally talking out of my ass there, I didn’t-” She raked her hands through her hair, staring over to the side in disbelief. “Hoooooly shit I was _not_ expecting to be right.” She looked back at him. “Um, so, I’m guessing you… switched during the presentation?”

Finley nodded, picking at the skin around his nails. MJ placed a gentle hand over his. “Hey, that’s not good for your skin.” She reached into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out a fidget cube. “You can use this instead.”

She held it out. Finley took it, running his fingers over the buttons. He fiddled with it, trying to get the hang of it while MJ kept talking.

“Why don’t I call Tony for you? He can pick you up.”

Finley looked up, tilting his head quizzically.

“Tony Stark,” she clarified upon noticing his confusion.

“Petey’s daddy,” Finley realized, eyes widening.

MJ gaped before she burst out laughing. “That’s right, Fin.”

Finley gasped, dropping the cube so he could flap his hands. “Spidey’s daddy too!”

MJ snorted, picking up the cube from the dirty floor and pocketing it again. “Sure, his too. C’mon, I’ll give him a call, and we can see if he can pick you up.”

She stood, holding out her hand expectantly. Finley didn’t hesitate to slot his hand in hers, pleased to find out that her hands were cool and smooth. He stood up, wobbling on his feet a bit, and stumbled forward. His legs felt too long, and he was used to not having the lower body strength to walk normally, so his gait was awkward. Luckily, MJ’s hand in his helped steady him so he didn’t fall over.

“You’re good, buddy,” she said, reaching for her cell phone. Finley felt disappointment rise in him when she let go of his hand, and he distracted himself from it by fiddling with the strings of his hoodie.

He tuned out the call, not even bothering to try and listen in like he did whenever Mommy was on the phone, and instead stared at her. He chewed on the end of one of the hoodie strings.

“Alright little dude,” she said after the call was over, dropping the phone back into her pocket. “Tony’ll be here soon to pick you up. Let’s go to the front office, yeah?”

Finley nodded eagerly, skipping alongside her. He followed her down a few hallways, noticing but not caring about the distinct lack of people inhabiting them. He couldn’t wait to meet Tony! He didn’t like strangers, especially mean-looking ones like that teacher back in the classroom and- Finley shook his head. He didn’t need to think of Skip right now, not when his Mommy wasn’t around.

“Here, he’ll be here soon, let’s sit down over here,” MJ directed, ignoring the stern lady at the desk. He plopped down in the chair, swinging his legs back and forth. He was mildly disappointed that his legs kept hitting the floor, but he swung nonetheless.

“What’s his deal?” The lady said sneerily, glancing up from her papers to stare at him with a snobbish expression.

“Anxiety. He’s going home,” MJ answered shortly. Finley frowned. MJ didn’t sound like that back in the bathroom. Maybe she was protecting him, like how Iron Man protected Petey and Spidey, or how Mommy protected him and his brothers and sisters.

It didn’t take long for Mr. Stark to arrive. “Hey kid,” he said, nodding in his direction. “MJ? You comin’ with?”

The lady at the front desk gaped. “Um, Mr. Stark, sir, you can’t just take Michelle out of school, it’s against our policy-”

Mr. Stark glared at her over his sunglasses. She snapped her mouth shut with a high-pitched squeak. Finley giggled at her silly face and jumped out of his seat, reaching for MJ’s hand. He couldn’t help the little bit of nervousness that lingered as they walked out to the car. MJ seemed to sense his anxiety and squeezed his hand comfortingly.

Finley wrinkled his nose at the smell of the car, but he knew he could deal with it, at least for a little while. MJ climbed in after him, and Mr. Stark entered into the driver’s seat.

“Is your driver sick or something?” MJ asked, plopping two backpacks- when had she gotten them?!- on the floor. Finley frowned at that, looking up at her. She shrugged.

“Nah, I just didn’t wanna make him drive all the way out to Queens on his lunch break,” Mr. Stark said noncommittally.

“Makes sense.”

“So, Pete, how you feeling?”

“It’s not Peter,” MJ said.

“You know about that?” Mr. Stark asked as he pulled out of the parking space. Finley saw his eyebrows raise in the side mirror.

MJ snorted. “It wasn’t hard to figure out.”

Finley yawned. The gentle buzzing of the car’s engine calmed down any nervousness that lingered from his meltdown before, lulling him into a pleasantly drowsy state. Mr. Stark’s and MJ’s conversation droned on, but he tuned it out, instead scooting closer so he could comfortably rest his head on MJ’s shoulder.

MJ hesitated, then her hand came up to card through Finley’s curls. He hummed contentedly, his eyes slipping shut in a matter of moments. Finley nuzzled his face into MJ’s shoulder, and he let himself relax.

He normally hated strangers, but these two might be okay, he supposed, his lips curling into a tiny smile. MJ ran her fingers through his hair. He breathed in, then let out his breath in a content, happy sigh.

This wasn't so bad. The last thought he remembered from before he fell asleep was that maybe, just maybe, he could learn to trust her.


	2. Notes

Hey guys!

I'm feeling a bit unmotivated right now, so the next work probably won't be out until either tomorrow or Monday. Sorry about that! I'm about 1000 words in so far, so I am working on it, it's just hard to write for whatever reason. I think it's gonna be about 3 or 4000 words by the time it's finished, so it's pretty thicc if I do say so myself

Hope you're having a fantastic morning/day/evening/night!

-Pat <3

**Author's Note:**

> Little: Finley is a little alter. This simply means that he's under the age of 12 [he is 3].
> 
> Trauma Holder: Finley is also a trauma holder, specifically a s*xual trauma holder. He has difficulty trusting others, especially since Skip built up trust and then betrayed it late on. However, he connects with MJ, and he tries to trust Tony because Peter and Spider-Man trust him.
> 
> Trigger: A trigger [in DID; in other situations it has different meanings] is something that prompts an alter to the front. These can be positive or negative. An example of a positive trigger would be a happy song or a favorite food, and an example of a negative trigger would be a situation that reminds an alter of trauma that occurred in the past.
> 
> Meltdown: A meltdown is an uncontrollable response to an overwhelming situation, whether it's a response to emotions, sensory input, or otherwise, in an autistic person. They're different from temper tantrums, which are controllable and done for attention-seeking purposes [most of the time]. Meltdowns are often unpredictable and can be quite violent if they get out of hand. In here, Fin was overwhelmed by the sudden change in situation and, as a result, had a meltdown.
> 
> Panic Attack: A panic attack is a response to a situation that can be experienced by anyone. It often results from a trigger [a trigger as in something that sets off the panic attack] and lasts anywhere from less than a minute up to an hour. It often involves heightened breathing, sweating, hot flashes, and a fast heartbeat, to grossly simplify it. Fin has a bit of a panic attack while he's in the classroom, but it's not really explicitly stated.
> 
> Notes:
> 
> Finley's line "We have DID!" is directly taken from DissociaDID's little alter from Anthony Padilla's video. It was too cute not to include, and I felt that it was a nice chance to reference one of my primary resources for my research for this series.
> 
> While not explicitly stated, Finley does have undiagnosed autism. This is why he has sensory issues, and it's why he had a meltdown. It's also why he is semi-verbal.
> 
> MJ definitely caught on in the last one, she just had to fit all of the pieces together to figure out that Peter actually had DID.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this, and please let me know if I got anything wrong or if I can improve anything about this!
> 
> Thanks! :DDD
> 
> -Pat <3


End file.
